


Cup of Tea

by Sephirotha



Series: Final Fantasy XIV Collection [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drug Use, Female Warrior of Light - Freeform, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Gen, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephirotha/pseuds/Sephirotha
Summary: After the peace negotiations end on a sour note, Varis demands to see the Warrior of Light alone.The two of them with no audience but a pot of garlean tea.Could a peaceful arrangement be made?
Series: Final Fantasy XIV Collection [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622137
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Cup of Tea

_Bring me Eorzea’s Champion._

Varis pours the tea into the cups before him as the famed Warrior of Light steps into the tent. There is apprehension in her eyes as she stands at the entrance, unarmed and without her headpiece. He wants to see her without obstructions. See what was so remarkable about this thorn to the Empire’s side.

His gold gaze scans her posture, from her suspicious expression to her footwear, which are caked with the dirt of the lochs.

She glances at her feet then at the clean flooring of the dimly lit tent. She crouches and removes her footwear, setting them carefully to the side before she crosses the space to the table.

She kneels before him, hands folded in her lap, back straight and chin tipped up to look into his scrutinising glare.

Unremarkable. That’s what she was.

Her scars are scratches in comparison to his own. And she is such a tiny thing, even her muscles are lacking to that of an enlistee in the garlean army.

How Zenos failed to strike her down was beyond comprehension. Perhaps his pitiful, pathetic son failed even in what was his most useful strength.

_Now don’t make that face. If you truly care of Garlemald’s future, you will bring her to me. Unharmed and unspoiled._

The emperor sets the teapot down and takes his cup. He raises it to his lips, closing his eyes to take in the pungent brew and sip it. 

Ridiculous ploy. What is his grandsire plotting behind his back?

He opens his eyes and sets his cup down. The sudden action has her flinch minutely.

“You were quiet in our negotiations,” he speaks once he formulates the correct words to say. “Tell me, warrior, what say you of the possibility to have Garlemald and the Eorzean Alliance under one banner?”

Her eyes narrow as she speaks openly against the idea of working together with Ascians to bring about more calamities.

A typical response from someone of her character. It was to be expected.

_I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Don’t do anything that would make her feel unwelcome._

As Varis looms over her, she leans back a little. He sighs heavily.

“You must understand that the battle against them will not cease until they succeed? Warriors of Light of the past have been unsuccessful in their wars against them. How are you different?”

She looks agitated as she speaks back with a slight bite to her words. For someone who is known for her silent nods and vicious glares, she has quite the extended vocabulary.

She speaks of her opinion of letting others die for some idealistic idea of becoming ‘perfect beings’. She speaks of loving imperfections for that is what makes reality.

Varis considers her words with closed eyes. She is certainly passionate. How annoying.

So young, naïve and a head full of idealistic fantasies of her own. Such foolish, childish ideals. Life is nothing like the fabled stories of heroes past, their journeys forever etched into paper of leather-bound tomes. 

Varis knew all too well. 

In an odd way, he felt jealous that her passions had not been nipped in the bud. Yet…

She asks why he has requested for her to meet him here. He considers his answer.

_I know you are terrible with improvisation. So, commit this to memory. The darling Warrior loves exploring new lands. Talk about Garlemald if you can. Invent traditions if you need to! Hook her into our culture. Distract her. But don’t be too obvious._

“I told you before, Warrior. I wished to hear your opinion. I want us to speak with no outside factors swaying our true selves. I see you seated with your comrades, but I can see how you restrain yourself amongst them.”

She seems to understand his response, her gaze dropping confirms his suspicions. 

Varis glances at his reflection in his tea.

_Oh and make sure to offer her something to drink. Otherwise the finale will not go according to the script._

“I…intended to bring this brew for the negotiations,” he says, and the Warrior looks at her own cup. “However, I did not have enough for all the leaders.”

He picks his cup up and lifts it.

“It is extracted from one of the few plants that can be grown in the harsh climate of Garlemald. The Populares use it often for it is a brew to be presented as an offering of peace.”

He gently swirled the contents.

_It shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her to drink. Say something that will have her want to respect the garlean culture, even if you are one of her adversaries._

“To drink it is to not accept negotiations, but to show that the attempt of peace was not in vain and well received, even if it is rejected.”

Understanding flashed in her eyes as she hesitantly took the cup. She lifted it to her nose, nearly sneezing at the pungent stench.

“It is an acquired taste. But better than swill in the military barracks.”

Her lips curl into an amused expression before she closes her eyes and begins drinking.

_Just remember to glaze her cup with the sedative._

She sets the empty cup down gently and looks up at him with a polite smile. Her lips part, perhaps to express thanks or perhaps to bid farewell.

Then her eyes close and she groans tiredly. She sways on the spot, holding her head with shaking hands. Her expression turns from confusion to fatigue, until she collapsed to the ground.

How naïve. Why would anyone drink anything to them presented by the enemy?

Varis stands and approaches her form, checking that she was still breathing. After confirming that she was not going to wake soon, he scoops her up.

She is light. Vulnerable. Pathetic.

This is the Champion of Eorzea? The Saviour of Savages?

A disappointed scowl crosses the emperor’s face before he turns and exits the tent from the back, approaching the ship that was ready to take off once he stepped on board.

_Follow this script to the letter and she’ll be sleeping like a babe in your arms. It is a simple play! Why, even my own grandson could pull this off!_

_You can do this small thing, can’t you, Varis? You wouldn’t want to disappoint me further, would you?_

_Good. Now, run along. Next time I see you, I expect to see this fabled champion in your grasp._

_Break a leg._


End file.
